


Stephan: Hold Me Tight

by MistressPandora



Series: Knotty John and His Men [2]
Category: Lord John Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Butt Plugs, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Modern AU, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Size Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28121943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressPandora/pseuds/MistressPandora
Summary: It wasn't really about the sex—which was invariably spectacular with or without the bondage—rope days were to forge a deeper connection between John and Stephan. It let them take their time, focused very specifically on each other, immersed in sensation.
Relationships: Lord John Grey/Stephan von Namtzen
Series: Knotty John and His Men [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043652
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27
Collections: Lord John Grey Cocoa and Kink 2020





	Stephan: Hold Me Tight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BornDifferent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BornDifferent/gifts).



> BornDifferent was kind enough to help with the German dialogue. Any remaining bad translation is entirely my own fault. 
> 
> Written for the [Lord John Grey Reading Nook](https://lordjohngreyreadingnook.tumblr.com) Cocoa and Kink fic event.

The lights were dim in Stephan von Namtzen’s London flat when he welcomed Grey inside. Stephan had undoubtedly kept the lights this low—ambient but not precisely dark—for the better part of an hour to ensure his eyes had time to adjust. Grey found his place in Stephan’s arms, and Stephan stole his breath with a thorough kiss that left him reeling. Just before Grey thought his lungs would burst, Stephan pulled away, slowly, drawing him off balance. With a gentle word of instruction, John emptied his pockets, depositing his wallet, keys, and mobile phone in a pretty porcelain bowl with scalloped edges. Stephan’s mobile was already there. No distractions allowed in the bedroom on rope days.

As he always did, Stephan calmed Grey's excited or frayed mind with a measured litany of instructions spoken in a soft voice. He undressed him, his hands caressing Grey's bare skin and kneading his muscles. Pulling his back against his chest, Stephan guided John through gentle stretches with his confident touch.

It wasn't really about the sex—which was invariably spectacular with or without the bondage—or how hot and exciting it was for Stephan to manhandle him—which it most assuredly was. Stephan was an attentive lover, in the bedroom as well as outside of it. But they used rope days to forge a deeper connection between them. It let them take their time, focused very specifically on each other, immersed in sensation. 

Stephan stood behind Grey and guided his hands to hold either side of the thickest part of the wide bedpost. Their favorite rope for arm bonds was made of black cotton, and Stephan delighted in teasing John with it. He dragged the length over his shoulders, letting it slither slowly across Grey's skin until the friction created a warm patch. Still standing with his broad chest flush against Grey's back, he tickled the delicate flesh behind his ear with the soft ends of the rope.

Grey's breath caught in his throat and he pressed back against his lover, wanting to feel his mouth where the rope had just been. "Stephan—"

"I have you, Darling." Stephan’s strong arms wrapped around him, solid and safe, and John leaned into him, relishing the feeling of being held. 

Stephan kept at least one hand on John's body the entire time as he circled around to reach his waiting arms. He had gloriously large, strong hands. Everything about Stephan was big. He was a powerful man, with the potential to be a veritable force of nature. He carried himself with a confidence that caused many people to give him a wide berth. But Grey knew him for how he truly was: gentle, kind, and unspeakably sweet.

Stephan liked to murmur a running narration while he tied him up, and he did it in his native German. Grey was relatively fluent in the language, but as Stephan began winding the soft rope around his wrists, a lovely, comfortable sort of fog settled over his mind. 

Grey watched Stephan coil the rope neatly around itself between his wrists, creating a beautiful spread two column tie that was sturdier and more comfortable than even the softest fetish cuffs. Stephan gave him a proud smile. Grey knew it was pride in him, his lover, that he felt, rather than his own skill with the rope, and it sent a powerful warmth through John.

 _"Du bist so schön,_ " Stephan whispered in his ear, his long fingers stroking John's hair, throat, cheek, lips. "How is your shoulder today?" He gently massaged John's left shoulder which, due to a rather stupid injury, had a tendency to soreness. "Could you tolerate it if I bound your hands behind your head?"

Grey lifted his arms experimentally, gauging the condition of the joint in question and found no discomfort at all. "Feels fit. I think I can manage." He offered his bound hands up to Stephan and smirked at him. "Do your worst."

As it turned out, not at all surprisingly, Stephan’s _worst_ was actually quite wonderful. He took his time about it, and three or four lengths of rope in the end—John didn’t count them. Stephan looped the rope around John's upper chest first. Over his shoulders, back around, another black rope of soft cotton, like what bound his wrists. The fine twist of the fibers rasped over John's shoulders, skipping over his clavicle. The secure feel of the harness, combined with Stephan’s soft, German litany of narration and praise, lulled John.

Time lost meaning in the quiet of the bedroom. Stephan added a length to the harness just over John's spine. He could feel the knot, gently pressing into his back. Switching to another cotton rope, this one in a royal blue, Stephan wound the doubled line around John's chest under the harness. One of his big hands led the rope, the other smoothing it carefully over John's body so it didn't twist or pinch. He slipped it through a lark’s head and went back around the opposite direction. 

It may have taken five minutes or five hours. Stephan worked in a quiet rhythm, unhurried. There was no rush, after all. Rope days were about the journey, not the destination. 

The ropes were snug, a constant embrace on Grey's body. It felt like safety and security and echoes of Stephan’s hands, tender kisses anchoring him in a calm harbor, and they drew him under. Stephan, completely attuned to John, noticed immediately. Grey saw him notice, recognized the shift inside his own head, the way Stephan switched from narrating his movements to gentle praise and sweet nothings, lavished on him in abundance. It was like floating, pleasantly bleary and aware of little else outside of what he could feel and see and hear in that moment. And taste. Stephan had eaten an orange after lunch, and the bright trace of citrus came into John's mouth on his lover's tongue.

Back and forth around Grey’s torso, each lark’s head pulling the previous pass of rope secure. He wouldn’t have described it as tight—and didn’t, when Stephan asked—but as row after row of rope made its way down his chest and stomach, John became acutely aware of his own breathing. Stephan’s hand was warm splayed over Grey’s abdomen and he urged him in quiet German to breathe comfortably, reminded him not to hold his breath. 

It wasn’t the first time that Stephan had made a kind of corset out of rope. Grey had initially been skeptical when Stephan had shown him a photograph. In the end it had been the confident smirk on the model’s face, the way the silver rope had complemented his dark skin, and the way the rope corset had accented the strong angles of his body that had won Grey over. The first time, Stephan had fucked him in front of a mirror so that Grey could see that the yards and yards of pretty blue rope he’d used had had the intended effect. 

Thinking about that first time, remembering how they had looked together with Grey’s wrists bound to the bedpost and Stephan taking him from behind, made him grow hard.

It wasn’t until Stephan ran his hands over the rope, down Grey’s sides and back up again, strumming the taut cotton against his ribs, that John realized the corset was complete. It spanned from the middle of his chest past his navel and to his hips, wrapping him in a constant, firm embrace. _“Atemberaubend,”_ Stephan whispered against the side of John’s neck, punctuating the praise with a kiss.

Stephan took a step back, one hand loosely gripping the rope between John's wrists. He smiled down at him, pleased and hungry, and lifted Grey's bound hands above his head. Considerably taller, Stephan lifted Grey's arms up and up until he had to raise up on the balls of his feet. 

“One of these days, I should suspend you,” Stephan said.

Grey’s breath caught in his throat and his heart thudded against his breastbone. It was probably his imagination that he could feel the echo of it beating through the ropes. He let out a breathy whimper, quite without meaning to. But dear God, it felt spectacular to be on the verge of losing his balance, yet safe under Stephan’s command. He never belittled Grey or humiliated him. Never made him feel small. But Stephan knew very well how to use his size and strength, along with his tender sweetness, and John gladly surrendered to him. 

"It may be enjoyable, do you think?" Stephan asked, gently tugging on the rope so that Grey swayed this way and that. 

"Yes, Sir." Grey looked up at his hands, at how easily Stephan could move him. His fingertips began to turn red, and Stephan lowered him back to a comfortable standing position. 

_"Sehr gut, Schatz_. Hands behind your head, now. Yes, well done." Stephan stood behind John then, still touching him all the while. Some light vibration when through the cuffs, gentle, like the beat of butterfly wings. Then firm tension as Stephan ran a fresh length of rope around John’s middle, over the corset. It was a natural hemp, the utilitarian look and texture an interesting contrast to the yards upon yards of blue cotton already hugging his body. 

Stephan’s fingertips tracing the horizontal lines of rope sent a shiver down Grey’s spine that ended at his stiff prick. “How is your shoulder? Is it too tight?”

“No, Sir.” Grey’s voice sounded breathless to his own ears. But it didn’t matter what he sounded like. Not here, tied up in Stephan’s bedroom. Here he only needed to _feel_. 

“Good. Tell me if it gives you trouble, yes?” Stephan waited for Grey's agreement, and rewarded him with a kiss so thorough it stole John's breath. He squirmed against the ropes, wanting to get his arms around Stephan, to hang onto him for support, the passion of it dragging him under even further.

It was like a dream in which Grey could see clearly what was real and what wasn't, but was powerless to touch any of it. Stephan did the touching for him. Guided him to the bed under his own power, steadied him as he sat. Then he manipulated John's body to the center of the bed, propped a little against the pile of plush pillows. 

The mattress dipped as Stephan sat next to him, holding a fresh bottle of water to John's lips. He tipped the water into John's obediently open mouth, let him take a few slow swallows. It was ice cold and John gasped and shivered as a few drops spilled onto his chest. John had once remarked that a straw would be easier, but Stephan liked it this way. He said it felt more intimate, that he enjoyed watching the water drip down his chin. 

Stephan stroked a gentle hand through Grey’s hair over and over, murmuring praises in German. His touch lulled John deeper into that dreamy state, that lovely place where nothing mattered but Stephan and himself and the way they made each other feel. He touched Grey’s shoulders, arms, the back of his neck, making soft shushing noises. “Relax, Darling. Let the ropes do their job. Relax your arms. Settle into it.”

Grey did, easing the tension out of his shoulders and arms until he could breathe easier, the ropes keeping his arms in position behind his head quite comfortably. Nodding, Stephan gave him an approving smile and kissed his mouth again. “That is better, is it not?”

“Thank you, Sir,” Grey said, nodding.

“ _Sehr gut_. I have something for you, would you like to see it?” Stephan was already reaching into his nightstand where he kept a few toys, lube, condoms. Grey watched him bend, enjoyed the way Stephan’s shirt stretched over his strong, broad back. He held the object between his thumb and two fingers, showing it to Grey. It was a plain black butt plug made of silicone with a blue glass rhinestone, faceted to resemble a very large sapphire. It was actually oddly pretty. “If you would like to wear it, I would enjoy seeing it in you.”

Grey only hesitated because Stephan usually liked to top on rope days, and unless he had a rather long night planned, that plug was not big enough to prepare John to take his sizable prick. “Yes.”

This put a pleased smile on Stephan’s handsome face, which in turn set off a warm flutter of butterflies in Grey's stomach. Stephan switched back to German, murmuring sweet little things as he applied lube to the butt plug and gently nudged Grey’s legs apart. How beautiful John looked in his ropes, marveling at the strength of his raised arms bent back behind his head. And then the tip of the plug was pressing into him and Stephan urged Grey to lift his hips to make it more comfortable. He went on whispering how he didn't really care for the color blue until he saw Grey wear it. _You wore that bright blue shirt on our first date. Do you remember?_ With gentle pressure, Stephan slid the plug into place and stroked his hands over Grey's inner thighs, his legs still spread wide. 

The easy feeling of being filled—but the knowledge that there was plenty room for more—was delicious, and Grey settled back into the pillows with a soft sigh. “ _Danke, Stephan_.”

“ _Bitte_ , Schatz.” Stephan tapped one finger against the plug, sending a startling array of wonderful vibrations through Grey’s body, making him gasp, eyes wide. Smirking, Stephan planted a rough kiss on Grey’s lips. “I wanted to be sure I still had your attention, my love.”

“You do. Thank you for the reminder, Sir.” Grey couldn’t have taken his eyes off Stephan now if he’d wanted to—and dear God, why should he ever want to? Stephan rose, trailing the fingers of one hand down Grey’s thigh, knee, shin, ankle, foot, to stand at the foot of the bed. For the first time since he’d pulled out the ropes, he wasn’t touching John. He undressed himself, holding John’s gaze the entire time. He’d positioned himself so that Grey could see his own body in the foreground of his vision. Maybe he hadn’t intended that to be the effect, but then, Stephan always seemed to think of everything. 

Stephan wore his clothes very well, and he took them off even better. Grey watched him bare his shoulders, chest, strong arms. His trousers and shorts came down next revealing the tantalizing curve of his arse and his gloriously large, half-hard prick. He climbed back onto the bed, dropping kisses and quiet German praises as he made his way up Grey’s body. John was reclined enough against the pillows that Stephan could straddle John on his knees, his muscular thighs bracketing Grey’s chest. “Open your mouth, John.”

Grey never had to be told twice for this. He loved sucking Stephan’s cock, the way it stretched his mouth as he grew harder, pushed his throat to the limit. John couldn’t fit all of Stephan in his mouth, but he always tried, like a challenge to see if he could get more in than the last time.

“Oh, John,” Stephan gasped, feeding his prick into Grey’s waiting mouth. “Very good, Darling.” He thrust in and out, taking his pleasure but always so careful not to hurt Grey. Always so in tune to John’s needs. Stephan smoothed John’s hair back, petting him, praising him. 

John was already turned on, had been since Stephan had begun touching his bare skin. But a heady wave of arousal hit him then and he whimpered around Stephan’s prick. He needed more, knew that Stephan would make it good for him like always, but he didn’t want to wait anymore. Trying to buck his hips was ineffective, unable to get enough leverage with his hands bound and Stephan on top of him. But his own prick was hard and leaking.

Stephan’s fist tightened in Grey’s hair, not pulling, not enough to hurt, but a firm command, like scruffing an unruly puppy. Grey stilled, relaxing his throat and breathing through his nose as Stephan pushed farther into his mouth, choking off his whine. “Do I not always reward your obedience, _Schatz?_ And your patience?”

John nodded but could not speak with his mouth so full. 

“ _Stimmt_. I do.” He pulled back then, taking his prick from Grey’s mouth. John stretched his mouth wide and his jaw clicked, but then the stiff joints felt better. Stephan climbed off the bed again and Grey must have been frowning, because he bent down and kissed his furrowed brow. 

“But I wasn’t finished with that. Sir,” Grey added when Stephan arched an unimpressed eyebrow at him, though his pale eyes were amused. Stephan almost always seemed to be on the verge of laughter.

“If you mind your manners, I will let you finish me off.” There was the sound of tearing foil, but John couldn’t bring himself to drag his attention from the little lines that crinkled at the corners of Stephan’s eyes. He kissed Grey, licking into his mouth as he rolled a condom onto him, and John canted up into Stephan’s large fist. And then his fist was slick with lube and Grey moaned into Stephan’s mouth.

Stephan’s bed had a single creaky spring, right in the middle. It gave a brief squeal as Stephan stradled Grey again. He moved slowly, deliberately, lowering himself onto Grey’s cock carefully, taking him in one slow, glorious inch at a time. They both gasped and panted and shuddered. Grey tugged against his bonds, wanting to get his hands on Stephan, wanting to feel all the ways his muscles flexed as he moved, or to wrap his hand around his prick until he came all over him. But he couldn’t do any of those things, completely at Stephan’s mercy and under his care. 

Inside Stephan was tight, hot, perfect, and he settled himself on top of Grey, rocking gently from one side to the other, drawing a moan out of one or both of them, John couldn’t tell. Didn’t care. His entire world was pleasure and sensation. The plug in his arse and ropes around his wrists reminded him that he belonged to Stephan. The rope corset, snug around his torso and making the very act of breathing an actual pleasure, gave him a sense of security. That even though right now he had surrendered his body to Stephan’s enjoyment, he was safe and cared for. 

Stephan began to move then, slow at first, then faster and faster, riding him. He never gave up the string of praises and sweet nothings, half in German and half in English now, mixing the two languages into something incomprehensible to someone who wasn’t fluent in _Stephan_. 

It was the perfect storm of ecstasy, and Grey didn’t hold back. Stephan didn’t like him to hold back, liked to hear him moan, to watch him squirm and thrash and fall apart. “I love you,” John said, a whisper at first. Then he repeated it. Pure joy spread across Stephan’s face in a broad grin, his eyes glassy. Grey had first confessed it to Stephan months ago, and Stephan had reciprocated. They didn’t say it terribly often, as if afraid of wearing it out. But they were the only words that Grey could string together in that moment when the connection between them was the strongest, purest. The golden moment before they both went mad chasing their orgasms.

Stephan leaned down and kissed John long and deep. When he sat up again, he took his own cock in hand, pumping it. If he came like that, it would spill on Grey’s face. _Oh God_ , he hoped Stephan came like that. 

“I’m close. Please, Sir. May I come?” Grey didn’t have to ask, that wasn’t one of their rules. But he liked the way the words sounded coming out of his own mouth, the submission in the simple, unnecessary question a decadent feeling.

“Do not hold back, Darling,” Stephan answered, breathless from exertion and physical delight. He rode him without mercy, and Grey could see the flush ripple over Stephan’s arms and thighs. He was close too.

Grey saw stars, then only the ceiling as he threw his head back and loosed Stephan’s name in a deep cry. He came, everything spinning and flying apart and coming back together again, Stephan riding him through all of it, moaning along with him. 

Stephan waited until Grey had finished—but not a second longer—and then rose up on his knees, sliding his cock into John’s mouth again. Grey gasped, sucking in air through his nose, still trying to catch his breath. Ever cognizant and careful of his size, Stephan fucked Grey’s mouth. He tangled a fist into John’s hair and used him. Grey let him, let himself go pliant, surrendering to it, reveling in it. Stephan came quickly, his salty-sweet seed filling John’s mouth. Grey swallowed it all down, greedy for it. When Stephan at last pulled out gently, Grey licked his lips, chasing errant droplets that ran down his chin. Stephan swiped his spilled seed with a thumb and pressed the digit into John’s mouth. Grey sucked it clean, moaning in appreciation, which Stephan echoed.

Kissing Grey one more time, Stephan got off of John and helped him sit up. He untied the rope binding Grey’s hands behind his head, helped him stretch his arms back out and over his head until he could rest them comfortably in his lap. “Your shoulder?” Stephan asked.

Grey blinked, struggling to assign meaning to the question in his bliss-soaked brain. At last it clicked. “Fine,” he answered. “I’ll need to stretch again, but I’m alright. No rush.”

Stephan nodded and gave Grey’s thighs a nudge, urging them apart again and reaching for the butt plug. Grey closed his legs. “Not yet. Leave it, if you don’t mind.”

“As you like it, John.” Stephan left the plug alone and sat on the mattress next to Grey to untie the cuffs around his wrists. He rubbed the skin, gently at first, looking for sore spots, then more quickly, to help with the tingling in his fingers. Holding the bottle of water to Grey’s lips again, he tipped it up into his open mouth. It was still cold though less icy, and John drank it as greedily as he’d swallowed Stephan’s seed. John hardly noticed when water ran down his chin in a thin trickle. 

Stephan praised John when he downed most of the bottle, then set it aside on the nightstand and slid behind Grey. He put one naked leg on either side of Grey’s body and helped him sit up straight, to lean back against his chest. He hadn’t untied the corset yet, but Grey didn’t mind. His eyes fell closed as he settled into Stephan’s embrace, leading Grey through slow stretches, keeping the muscles in his shoulders from knotting. Grey let out a relaxed sigh. Every inch of his body felt thoroughly sated, tenderly used, all the places he usually carried his tension putty in Stephan’s hands. 

They didn’t speak much, communicating through soft hums and touches, the foggy haze of total satisfaction settling around them like a blanket. Stephan took his time untying the rope corset, dropping the ropes one by one into a wicker basket near the bed to be cleaned and put away in the morning. In the morning, but not now. Only when the last of the ropes were off and the water was gone did Grey allow Stephan to pull the butt plug out of him. 

Stephan pulled back the covers and tucked Grey into bed, sliding in next to him and wrapping him up in his long arms. John nuzzled his cheek against Stephan’s chest, smoothing the nearly invisible blond hairs there away from his nose. He would stay the night and most of the day tomorrow, but tomorrow was Sunday and Grey had to get ready for work on Monday morning. Their Sunday of brunch and kissing and touching whenever they felt like it, of domestic bliss would end abruptly. The knowledge of that end always cast a shadow over the day, beginning over Stephan’s French press. And the next weekend, Stephan would travel to Germany for three weeks. Three weeks in London, three in Germany, with only the weekends to share between them. Grey had started to hate it.

“Stephan,” Grey whispered. Night had fallen outside of their haven, and the room was dark.

“Yes, Darling?” Stephan’s voice rumbled in his chest under Grey’s ear as well as above him, his breath ghosting over his hair.

“When you come back to London next month…” His mouth ran dry and his heart pounded, but he would regret it if he didn’t ask, no matter what Stephan’s answer was. “Would you, perhaps, like to stay with me? What I mean is… would you move in with me?” Grey turned his face up to look into Stephan’s eyes.

Stephan hesitated, but for barely a pair of heartbeats. Then that same joyful grin he’d given Grey when he said _I love you_ broke brightly across his face. “I would love to, John. Very much.”


End file.
